


Love. Or Whatever.

by higayimdad



Series: Stray Kids oneshots [6]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Best Friends, But also tender kisses, Drunken Kissing, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Han Jisung | Han Is Bad at Feelings, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jisung: Emotions suck therefore I respectfully pretend they dont exist, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Light Angst, M/M, Minho/Hyunjin briefly, Stupidity, also just for like a second nothing descriptive, like a second in the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/higayimdad/pseuds/higayimdad
Summary: Minho laughed, before turning serious all of a sudden. “Will you ever love me, like I do you?”Jisung wanted to yell at him,“Yes of course! I do! I love you!”But the words stuck like glue in his throat.It was complicated
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: Stray Kids oneshots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756504
Comments: 15
Kudos: 83
Collections: Minsung





	Love. Or Whatever.

**Author's Note:**

> putting another TW here for like frequent alcohol use (and brief brief mentions of death)
> 
> also for simplicity minho/chan/changbin are all one year older than the rest, so maknae line is all the same age too!

####  _19 September, 2016_

“Hey,” Jisung bowed and smiled, held his right wrist with his other hand when he finally shook hands with the other one. “Jisung.” 

“Minho.” The other one said. 

His back was straight, dressed in navy chinos and a spotless white dress shirt. Minho didn’t exactly smile, rather he nodded at Jisung, awkwardly pulled out the chair and waited for him to sit on it. What a _gentleman._

Changbin had set them up on a blind date, and decided that a small café would be perfect. Changbin promised them both that it would be casual and comfortable, that they were made for each other. Jisung looked down on himself, and then back on Minho. Minho dressed like he was afraid the press would come with cameras around the corner anytime, he couldn’t even really spot a wrinkle on his shirt. 

Meanwhile Jisung dressed like the date was _actually_ casual, because that’s what Changbin had said it was. Black shorts barely reaching his knees, he wore a weirdly specific t-shirt over a plain white hoodie. It read out _“I don’t snore, I dream that I’m a spitfire”,_ Jisung personally found it hilarious, but he could imagine that Minho would make fun of it to his friends once their date was over. 

“So...why did you accept this blind date?” Jisung asked, he was genuinely curious. 

“Uh, I’m seatmates with Changbin in our english lit class, he just turned to me last week and asked if I was up for one,” Minho laughed rather dryly, “and honestly, I haven’t been on a date since like last year.”

“Ah cool, he basically said the same thing to me. Or I mean, I’m not in your lit class, but he asked if I wanted to go on a date.” 

“Cool.” Minho said, pressed his lips into a firm line. 

_“Cool cool cool.”_ Jisung echoed back. 

Jisung and Changbin had basically grown up like brothers, their parents met in high school, bought houses next to each other, if it weren’t for the fact that Changbin happened to be a year older, he and Jisung would have been almost like twins. He was Jisung’s most trusted friend, someone he trusted with his whole life, to be completely honest. 

They sipped their coffee in silence, barely made it past the ice breaker stage, even the baristas were choking on the intense and awkward tension between them. 

Never, _ever,_ would he ever leave his love life in Changbin’s hands again. 

Naturally the date ended quickly, they shared yet another awkward half-hug, half-only shaking hands. 

“It was _fun_ , don’t be a stranger!” Jisung curled the corners of his mouth upwards. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you!” Minho waved, walked in the opposite direction of Jisung. 

They went their own separate ways, never exchanging phone numbers or even last names - they never expected to ever see each other again anyway. It was a shame, Minho was handsome, more handsome than most people, his hair was straight and dark. He looked mature, which was a nice change for once. But _clearly_ _not_ for Jisung, they were like two magnets with their like-pole being pushed against each other.

Jisung still cursed Changbin for setting him up with someone so different for himself. Yeah yeah, he knew all about ‘opposites attract’, but it was ridiculous. 

From the barely an hour long meeting, Jisung could make out that Minho was stuck up, proper and maybe a bit pretentious (why else would a 20-year-old wear _fancy_ clothes to a café date - a casual one for that matter?) Jisung thought of himself as extraordinary, he was hilarious and laid back. His closet contained exclusively clothes he was comfortable in - hoodies, t-shirts big enough to reach his knees, sweatpants and large jeans. Okay, to be fair, Jisung had like 2 pairs of black skinny jeans and one dress shirt. He couldn’t recall if he owned a tie, but he was sure one was hiding somewhere. 

To put it simple, they were _not_ a good fit for each other. Jisung was still pretending it was 2013 and he was 15, and Minho seemed to think he was a middle aged man. But who cares, it wasn’t like they would ever see each other _again_.

####  _31 December, 2019_

Jisung sang along to the song playing from the speakers, well - sang along and sang along, only about a fourth of the words were either correct or actually pronounced. 

“Hey the countdown is beginning!” He shouted, waved the few friends over from the kitchen. All of whom came over with hands full of glasses and champagne. 

“Shit we got 60 seconds,” Changbin mumbled, trying to pour a glass for himself on the way over; spilling half of it on the carpeted floor. Jisung was sure he was gonna curse Changbin out tomorrow, but now he could barely care. 

“Everyone got something to cheer with?” Seungmin asked, pouring his and Felix’s glasses to the brim as the countdown hit 15 seconds. 

An unanimous “yes” echoed, they stood in their small half circle around the TV, holding champagne glasses made out of plastic, party hats made out of colorful metallic paper on their heads. 

“3! 2! 1! Happy new year!” Everyone cheered, clinked their glasses together, a few more drops of champagne spilled on the floor. Jisung didn’t care. 

Chan stood opposite of Jisung, the blond grabbed ahold of both Hyunjin and Felix, who unfortunately stood next to the older one. It looked like Chan wanted to somehow look everyone in the room at the same time, but couldn’t - and after a few seconds he settled on Jisung. 

“I love you all, let’s have a great _fucking_ time in 2020!” 

His glass reached for the ceiling, then he downed the last few sips that were left in it. Everyone followed, and cheered to his words. 

“Hey!” Jisung sneaked up behind someone. Black hair parted in the middle, black straight jeans, an olive-colored shirt tightly tucked in. It was a casual New Years' celebration, only close friends, yet he dressed the exact same way as he did three years ago, when Jisung met him for the first time. 

“Hello?” Minho asked. 

“Changbin and I are going up to the roof to watch fireworks, you coming?” 

“Mhmn.” Minho nodded, placed his glass on the closest flat surface, and followed Jisung and Changbin out the door. Up the long stairs, to the bare roof. 

Colors exploded in the sky, maybe the apartment Jisung and Felix live in is not perfect, or situated in the middle of the city; but the roof may be the best place Jisung knew to watch fireworks. Eyes widening, every color of the rainbow reflecting in his otherwise light brown eyes. He couldn’t bother saying anything, despite hearing that both Minho and Changbin talked to each other. 

Jisung felt the familiar feeling of gloom, sorrow, _something_ , rise in his chest, like something was making its way from the very depths of his stomach, past his heart, up to his throat. 

He coughed, pretended to scratch himself on the back of his neck. Took a sip from the red solo cup in his hand, as if that would wash the feeling away. 

“I’m going back inside, it’s fucking cold,” Changbin said, rubbed his forearms, and turned to the door back into the building before waiting for an answer. Leaving the two remaining boys in silence, aside from occasional booms of fireworks. 

Minho’s breathing was slow, Jisung was sure his resting heart rate was somewhere between 10 and 20, always weirdly calm. His composure was always well put together. Not that Jisung expected anything but that. 

The older one turned to Jisung, tucked a stray strand of black hair out of his own face. 

“So what’s your new year's resolution?” 

“Mine? Nothing, I don’t believe in that new year, new me bullshit. Besides, what’s the point in trying to improve something that’s already perfect?” Jisung flashed both teeth and the facade of unbreakable confidence. Minho rolled his eyes, as if to say ‘forget I asked’. 

“Ah come on dude, why frown so much? What’s your then?” Jisung asked. 

“I’m not telling you,” Minho answered, simple and short. And after 40 seconds of Jisung trying to annoy the answer out of his friend, Minho continued. 

“If I tell you, I won’t achieve it.” 

“That’s not true, you are mixing it up with wishing upon falling stars or like- blowing out candles.” 

Despite Jisung clearly being right that Minho telling him his resolution wouldn’t jinx shit, the older one zipped his mouth shut, simply letting the corners of his mouth jerk up into a smile when Jisung stomped on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum. _“Come on- tell me!”_

Another set of fireworks exploded in the sky, lit the two of them up like the sun was shining brightly at them. Then it quieted down, leaving them in a silence so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

“Jisung,” Minho said again, but let his eyes remain on something far off in the distance. “I think...it’s time for you to let us love you more this year. You know - don’t run away as soon as someone slaps you on the back and tells you they really love you. Because we do, you know?” He finally allowed his eyes to meet with Jisung’s, he looked to be deep in thought. 

Two more fireworks exploded, bright blue and pink. 

“‘Cause baby you’re a firework! Come on, show ‘em what you’re worth!” Jisung broke out into song, wiggled his hips back and forth. Backed towards the door, when Minho opened his mouth and let out _“Jisung”_ in a tired voice, Jisung simply just put his fingers in his ears, struggled a second too long with opening the door with his elbows, and left, still humming the words to the song. 

Jisung wouldn’t know, but Minho sighed deep and shook his head.

The two of them met three or so years ago, Changbin had set them up on a blind date, a horrible one. They didn’t really click, never even got into a proper conversation. Both of them assumed they’d never see each other again, an assumption that lasted about two months. 

_“This is Minho!”_ Hyunjin introduced the older one to their group of friends. Ah, Jisung felt ridiculous, how could he not connect that the one and only Minho Hyunjin was dating turned out to be the same Minho Jisung had gone out with. 

Changbin had the nerve to laugh at Jisung’s and Minho's failed date - just to proceed to set Minho up with Hyunjin a week later. 

It was awkward for a while, Hyunjin always forced Minho to hang out with them, and Changbin was the only one but them who knew about their previous history. _History and history,_ it’s far fetched. 

Minho and Hyunjin admittedly fit together much better than what Jisung and Minho did. They were both crazy handsome, like a little bit too handsome. Their relationship seemed carefree and playful, based more on friendship than it was romantic feelings - even if the sexual tension between them never went unquestioned. None of their friends doubted that they might just have found the one, like _the one._

For some reason (something neither Minho nor Hyunjin ever told their six curious friends) they broke up, just a few months into the fresh relationship.

In most cases this would have ended Minho’s new and short-lived friendship with the rest of them, naturally - he was the last one in, therefore the first one out. 

It just happened to be so that both of them left out the fact that they had broken up for probably three weeks. Minho continued to hang out with them as if nothing had happened. Hyunjin only brought their breakup up in casual conversation when Felix asked Hyunjin what the two of them were doing for valentines, and Hyunjin answered; 

_“Oh I’m going on a date, don’t know about Minho though, maybe he’s staying home?”_ It was nonchalant, like it was _nothing_. 

So, everyone had gotten weirdly attached to the prim and proper Minho, who was surprisingly blunt and had a humor few understood, they never intended to let him go again. And if the two parties who broke up didn’t seem to mind their past relationship, there was no point in the other one’s doing that either. 

Why they broke up always remained a secret, not even Jeongin knew, and Hyunjin was known to always spill his secrets to him just a few drinks in. 

Not even _Jisung_ knew, and Jisung considered Minho one of his closest friends now. Despite knowing him the shortest. They were still like two magnets, but it turned out all you had to do was turn one of them, and _whoosh_ they stuck together in a second. Like a north-pole and a south-pole. 

_“It’s time for you to let us love you,”_ Jisung mouthed the words. His room was dark, Minho was sleeping next to him. 

Seungmin crashed in Felix’s room, Chan fell asleep on the sofa after his last glass of champagne. The rest of them somehow managed to flag down a taxi to take them home. 

Minho laid as far as he could to the edge of the bed, despite it being twin sized. The older one knew that Jisung didn’t fancy people touching him, unless it was the off chance Jisung was the one who initiated it. Sleep was no excuse, even Minho's unconscious remembered that time he had spooned Jisung without warning in his sleep, and got a kick to the balls as a thank you. 

Somewhere someone shot up another set of fireworks, it was nearly 5 AM, Jisung listened to the muted explosions, listened to the muffled screaming from people walking home shifaced from the bar below his windows, listened to Minho's calm and tranquil breathing. 

Albeit a bit hesitant, Jisung curled up closer to Minho, placed his head on Minho's firm bicep. Repeated a New Year's resolution in his head, and fell asleep.

####  _28 March, 2020_

Jisung felt the outline of his keys in his pocket, sharp corners cutting into the skin on his thighs through the sweatpants he was wearing. His fingers fiddled mindlessly with the hem of the t-shirt Jenny was wearing. Her small figure rested against Jisung’s side, Jisung suspected she wanted to say something, feeling like she'd been sitting on needles ever since Jisung came over to her dorm. 

“Jisung?” She asked him, yet her eyes remained on the movie they were watching. Jisung hummed, waited for her to continue. “What are we?” 

He had admittedly waited for this, knew that the one would ask it sooner or later, yet he wasn’t an ounce more prepared for it. 

“Well I’m a human, I assume you are too?” 

“You know what I mean.” Her voice was small. 

“I’m just joking,” Jisung laughed. 

“I’m not!”

In a hasty motion she sat up, pressed pause on the movie. Looked on Jisung with eyebrows scrunching up in annoyance, her hair was short and dark, the bangs were thin and probably needed a trim. 

“So?” She asked again, looked at him like he was dumb. 

“You know I’m not interested in a relationship.” Jisung cleared his throat, straightened his back. Jenny was a friend of Jisung’s classmate, they met on valentines; it would have been incredibly romantic if Jisung wasn’t just looking for a distraction. But he was telling the truth, he told her clearly, already the second time they met, ” _I’m not looking for a girlfriend”._ She had nodded and agreed, she knew what she was getting into. 

“So you don’t see this going anywhere? Ever? Just hooking up?” Her normally thick lips turned thin when she pressed them together. 

What a mess, Jisung didn’t know what to say, he took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair, put the cap back on backward. 

“No, or yes- we are literally _just_ hooking up.” 

“God I can’t believe you!” 

“What?” Jisung stood up from her bed, grabbed the yellow hoodie from the floor and pulled it over his head. 

“No it’s just that I’ve wasted over a month on a guy who doesn’t even want me.” 

Jisung sighed, felt his stomach turn upside down, walked towards the door - Jenny behind him. 

“Are you leaving?” She questioned him, grabbed a hold of the fabric of Jisung’s hoodie, 

“Yes. Honestly, it’s better for both of us if you try to find someone who’s looking for a relationship, you know that’s not me Jenny.”

“I thought I- could change...you?” Once again her voice was small, it filled Jisung with guilt. 

“You’re not gonna change anything about me.” 

The door slammed after Jisung, he could hear Jenny aggressively lock the three locks on the inside of the door, stomp away. Jisung clicked his tongue, shook his head. 

For some reason, he expected he’d manage to avoid this kind of drama if there wasn’t a relationship to fight over. Still, he was somewhat used to someone always misunderstanding his intention, or he misunderstood theirs. Relationships weren't his thing, never had been - neither was dating - the last date he went on with Minho, and that was so horrible he hadn’t gone to one for three years. 

Jisung stumbled out on the street, it was cold, way too cold to not wear a jacket- but Jisung _obviously_ didn’t have one, just to make matters worse. 

He pressed the call button under Minho’s name, who - not so surprisingly answered after just two beeps. 

“Hey, can you pick me up? I don’t have money right now so I can’t pay for a taxi, but I’ll pay you as soon as I get some!” 

“It’s...like 1 AM?” Minho sounded confused at first, but to be fair, he was the only one with a car, so being their private taxi was something he had gotten used to. 

“So what! Come on, I’ll send you the address!”

Minho hung up, but Jisung smiled at the contact info, if Minho _really_ didn’t want to pick him up, he would have said no.

Lo and behold the car pulled up 20 minutes later, Jisung saw that Minho leaned over the passenger seat and opened the door from the inside. He pretended to giggle, purposefully raised his voice a little bit, and thanked him. _What a gentleman._

“Did you dress up just to pick me up?” Jisung looked Minho up and down, at the brown sweater pulled over a button-up shirt, the black chinos. 

“Mnm.” Minho answered, concentrating on the road. “You dressed assuming a circus was picking you up, I see.” He said. Poked fun at the way Jisung dressed, with endless layers and colors mismatching. Purple t-shirt, yellow hoodie, grey sweatpants, black converse, pink socks. God, _was_ he setting himself up for failure? 

Minho didn’t ask why he was picking Jisung up in the middle of the night outside the same dorms they had lived in when they were freshmen, he knew Jisung wasn’t gonna answer anyway. 

“You okay?” Minho asked, the car was quiet. Jisung hadn't even taken the opportunity to connect his phone to the aux, his eyes followed buildings outside the car window instead. 

“Yeah. I’m cool,” Jisung sucked in a breath, “but uh- can I crash at your place? Kinda promised Felix I wouldn’t be back tonight.” 

Minho nodded, took a right. Jisung’s ears perked up when he heard two bottles clink together in the back. Jisung eyed the white opaque plastic bag, but clearly saw the familiar green bottles. 

“I guessed you were in the mood for alcohol.” Minho said, eyes Jisung from the side. 

“You know me too well~” Jisung laughed, stretched his arms in front of his body, and listened to his elbows crack.

A peachy blush formed on Minho's face just 2 or 3 shots in. It always did, Minho’s tolerance was low, which was quite funny. Now that they were both a bottle each in, he sat rather somberly on the couch. He was talkative when sober, whatever everyone's first impression or assumption of him was. Unfortunately, Jisung knew Minho had a tendency of falling into self-pity when drunk, and even more talkative than normal. 

He was talking about something, Jisung didn’t really hear him, too caught up in something on the other one's face. 

“-I won’t be home for Easter which fucking sucks ‘cause I miss my cats,” Minho sighed, barely opening his mouth to speak. “God and this fucking...internship I’m doing? I’ve done nothing but bring people coffee for the past 4 weeks.” He grunted, looked at Jisung with bright red cheeks and mouth in a frown. 

“Ah, it’s okay!” Jisung smiled and pinched his cheeks. “One day you will bring them lunch instead.” 

Minho swatted his hand away, blew hair out of his face. Stood up as if to storm out - before he realized this was his studio apartment. 

“You wanna play a game?” Minho asked instead, wobbled over to a kitchen drawer and pulled out a deck of cards. 

“Poker?” Jisung asked. 

“Too drunk to remember the rules.” 

“Gin rummy?” 

“Never heard of it.” 

“War?” 

Once again Minho shook his head. 

“God, you decide then,” Jisung threw his head back. 

“Go Fish?” Minho’s eyes grew a size, he tilted his head and looked at the younger one. 

“I’ll play Go Fish with you on one condition.” 

Jisung waited for Minho to sit down, he took the deck from his hands. Minho nodded, rested his head in his hands. “Hmmn?” 

“We play Go Fish, but every time we lose a card, we have to share a secret _and_ take a shot.” Jisung wiggled his brows, shuffled the deck, laid them out on the table in front of them. Minho seemed to figure on it for a second, but finally agreed to the rules and picked up the seven cards Jisung dealt him. 

Back and forth sharing small secrets, for _some_ reason Minho seemed to lose almost every single one of his cards (the reason was that Jisung could see Minho's cards in the mirror behind him.) Jisung felt no shame over cheating - he was winning, so of course not, but he was slightly dissatisfied with Minho’s secret sharing. He never went past secrets so small they were basically insignificant, _“I used to steal cookies from the cupboard when I was 9.” “Who the fuck didn’t?”_

“Any nines?” Jisung asked, Minho handed him one; the fourth one to complete Jisung’s last pair. “I won, now I want a _saucy_ secret.” 

Jisung settled in his pose, stretching his back. Minho filled his glass, realized he was about 3 shots away from finishing his second bottle of soju. 

“I wanted to sleep with you the first time we met,” he winced when the alcohol hit the back of his throat. “you wanna play something else? Minho then asked, like he hadn’t dropped the biggest bomb in the history of ever. 

“Woah woah woah, back up, you wanted to sleep with me? I mean understandable I’m literally irresistible. But I thought your type was like - everyone but me?” 

“No, I was really attracted to you.” Minho collected the cards, shuffled them again; Jisung had always liked that Minho was blunt and honest, found it amusing sometimes, and quite respectable at other times. Now that Minho had told him this - it was quite...something. 

“Interesting…” Jisung stood up, stripped off his hoodie. 

Maybe it was the fact that Jisung wasn’t sober, or it was the fact that it was a little bit easier, to be honest with himself when he was drunk _._ Ah yes, that was it. Jisung had always found Minho attractive, beautiful. Since the day they met. There was no point in lying to himself, now that Minho had admitted that he had liked Jisung to that extent, why wouldn’t Jisung do the same. 

“Do you wanna do something stupid?” Jisung walked behind Minho, who was still sitting on the floor, carded through his hair. Minho leaned his head backward, seemed to like it very much. 

“I love it when you are stupid.” 

Jisung leaned down, kissed Minho spiderman-style.

####  _5 April, 2020_

Felix had left the day before, visiting his boring parents in their boring hometown - leaving Jisung to sulk in his loneliness. Changbin had gone home to his parents too, Chan was working late. Seungmin and Hyunjin were gods know where, not to mention that Jeongin had made plans with _other_ friends. Scandalous. Minho...sigh...he didn’t know to be honest. Or well - he was at least not home, cross country with his family and cats, like he wanted to be. 

Jisung hadn’t talked to Minho very much since their unfortunate drunken adventures the week prior. They were quite _stupid_. Jisung realized in the morning when he woke up, felt guilty for maybe replacing his last casual hookup (the one who basically _broke up with him_ the same night) with a new one. Not just anyone, Minho! He felt like there should be rules to this. Maybe there was, yeah, the bro code!

Exes are off limits! 

Minho and Hyunjin were together once upon a time. It was a long time ago, but it still happened. And it wasn’t like Jisung had stolen Minho from Hyunjin a week after they broke up, it wasn’t like Minho and Jisung were dating either - far from it. But _something_ had happened. 

To be fair…Jisung tried to justify what had happened in his head, he and Minho had gone on _one_ date all those years ago, which meant that Hyunjin had officially broken the bro code before him. 

Jisung was in the middle of washing his hands when a knock came from his door. No one dropped by unannounced anymore, he sighed, accepted his fate - it was his turn to be murdered by a serial killer. He dried off his face with his hand, noticing a pimple by his temple, something that shouldn’t annoy him as much as it did. 

It knocked again; startling Jisung despite the fact that he knew someone was on the other side. 

“I’m coming!” He shouted 

Through the peephole he spotted Minho, awkwardly balancing on the heels of his feet. Mindlessly playing with the handles to an opaque plastic bag. Jisung couldn’t quite see, but he guessed there were four familiar green bottles in it. 

“What are you doing here?” Jisung laughed, confusion spreading on his face. 

“Alone on easter? We can’t have that. And uh-“ Minho stepped inside, threw off his jacket. “I want a rematch in Go Fish.”

####  _20 June, 2020_

“Congratulations to our amazing friends for finally, _finally_ graduating. Cheers to unemployment!” Seungmin raised his glass. Everyone else followed. 

“I’m _not_ unemployed though.” Minho pointed out, shook his finger at the younger friend. “I got a secure position and the company once summer is over! No more bringing people coffee!” He justified. 

Everyone hummed, agreeing with him. 

Cheers to employment! Cheers to everyone but Minho then! 

Felix threw his arm around Jisung, letting his friend rest against his shoulder. It was hard to ignore that Jisung was under the weather. When everyone laughed from the bottom of their stomachs Jisung only chuckled half-heartedly. When everyone cheered, clinked together glasses to celebrate _whatever,_ Jisung hovered his hand in between his glass of carbonated water and the drink he hadn’t touched in an hour. 

Cheers to Chan, Changbin, and Minho for graduating. Cheers to _whatever._

No one wanted to ask Jisung what was wrong, they could hear him mumble “nothing”, like he always said. Why would it be different today? So they let him mope right there next to Felix, hoping he could perhaps cheer him up. _“What do you wanna do? I could go home now otherwise, if you rather want that?”_ Felix asked, or whispered, into Jisung’s ear. 

It wasn’t like Jisung was about to confess that it felt like it was falling apart, so he did what he had done since he turned 18, went back to old habits. 

Most of Jisung’s habits were the opposite of good. He bit his nails, had done so since he was barely 8 or 9. He hadn’t slept consistently since he was a young teenager. He was a clinical procrastinator, there was a time when Jisung’s dad still nagged at him for eating too much fast food. Did caffeine count as a bad habit? Probably. The list was long, and Jisung could probably check off half of the items on it. 

Right on top, alcohol consumption. It always hit differently when he was in a shitty mood. 

“Two..mnm...negronis? _Please.”_ His smile almost reached his eyes. 

The bartender was pretty, she handed them to him, condensation dripping down the sides of the glass and hit the floor. He thanked her, walked back to the table they were sitting at in the back. It was quiet there, not like by the bar or the dance floor. Too quiet. 

Someone brought up the idea to play a game, was it Seungmin? Ah _motherfucker_ Jisung had time to think. 

“Never have I ever?” Jeongin asked, pulled out his phone to search for fun questions. 

_Never have I ever stolen something with a value of more than 10$?_ Jisung, Felix, and Changbin drank. They had done it together. 

_Never have I ever been kicked out of a bar?_ Chan drank, laughed and explained that it was the second time he ever went to a bar, two weeks after his 18th birthday. 

_Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex?_ Everyone drank. 

_Never have I ever had friends with benefits?_ Jisung drank, naturally, so did Chan, Felix, and Minho. And to everyone’s surprise Jeongin too. _“We need to hear more about this later.”_ Chan pointed a finger at him. 

_Never have I ever had sex with someone in this room?_ Hyunjin and Minho obviously drank, it was expected, but when Jisung mindlessly raised his glass to his lips and drank, the table turned silent for a solid five seconds. Like the world came to a stop. 

“With who?” Felix asked.

“When?” Seungmin spat out, despite Jisung never answering the first question. 

“Minho? While we were dating?” Hyunjin asked, looking as if he was in the middle of a laugh. 

“What? Yes, but no!” Jisung looked at Minho for help. “Like, this Easter or...something…” 

Minho nodded in approval, looked at his friends from behind the glass in his hand. 

“Once?” Changbin asked, Minho tilted his head. 

“Twice?” He asked again. “More? Five times, six?” 

“Alright stop!” Jisung laughed, shook his hands in front of his face, “we aren’t telling you. It’s nothing serious, just a few times.” 

Surprisingly they left the subject be quite quickly, moving on as if it was nothing. But their friends looked at Jisung and Minho, basically pitchforks in hands, waiting for them to do something. Snickering and pushing them in each other’s direction, like they were teasing a boy with a school crush on someone. 

Whatever, everyone cheered on something again. Jisung didn’t know, he didn’t sulk by Felix’s side anymore. 

It wasn’t like Jisung was _fine_ now, onety one drinks in. The opposite, he felt like dying. Often did to be fair. The effect of alcohol often lured out the strongest emotions one could hide within themself, despair or anger. Jisung was different in that way, it was somehow even easier to hide himself _,_ pretend like everything was _fine,_ even if it wasn't. It was never really fine. But Jisung didn't care, hah, why would he. He scoffed at himself like he was above having emotions. His eyes had turned blurry, but he spotted Minho across the room, and like the two magnets they were; they attracted each other. 

“Now that everyone knows…” Jisung whispered into Minho's ear, tiptoeing to reach properly. “We can kiss...here...or there,” He pointed to different places in the bar. 

Minho brushed the orange hair out of Jisung’s face; his roots had started to grow out, the small amounts of makeup on his face were smeared out. 

“Everywhere you want.” Minho mumbled, against Jisung’s lips. 

The sun peeked through Minho’s blinds, he hadn’t closed them properly last night. Leaving the cracks open, maybe to purposely make Jisung suffer. 

He had been awake since early morning, before the sun even began to rise. Didn’t make his headache any less insufferable, the dawn of a new day didn’t make _him_ feel any less overwhelmed. 

“You okay?” Minho asked, through closed eyes. Kissed Jisung on the ear. 

Jisung squirmed, dried off any traces off the kiss with the back of his hand. 

“Yeah,” 

“What’s on your mind then? Me?” Minho yawned, asked him mindlessly. 

“Fuck off,” Jisung laughed, Minho liked that, “Not just...you. Chan and Changbin too.” 

“Why?”

“You’re old now, you guys are leaving.” 

Minho rolled over to his side, touched Jisung’s bare shoulder. Wanted Jisung to look him in the eyes. 

“What are you talking about, I’ve just fixed a job 30 minutes from here. The hell I’m leaving. Neither is Chan and Changbin.” 

_Everyone leaves._

Jisung took a breath. Didn’t say a word. 

“Listen,” Minho carded through Jisung’s hair, tried to get it out of his face. “How long have you known Changbin for? 22 years?” 

Jisung nodded. 

“And Chan?” 

“Like, since 4th grade or something.” 

“Why would they leave now? They love you, they aren’t leaving.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m _not_ leaving.” 

“Shut up.” Jisung slapped Minho's chest, turned around and pulled the blanket over his body. He pretended it was because Minho was corny or cheesy, despite saying _exactly_ what Jisung wanted to hear. 

Especially from Minho. 

_“I’m not leaving you.”_ Still echoed in his head hours later, Minho's soft voice whispering it to him. Sweet, like a promise. Something Jisung had a hard time believing. 

####  _10 August 2020_

There wasn't a heap of calls coming in like it did for Changbin when he went home and his mother wanted to know his travel plan down to the minute. It wasn't like it was for Jeongin when he finally flew home and messaged his parents every few minutes to update them on the way. There wasn't a text that said  _ "When will you be here?"  _ but Jisung still picked up his phone. Kept his message short and simple. “I’ll be there tonight,” he typed out, before sending it and throwing his phone to the far end of his bed, where he didn’t have to see it. Where he could pretend that someone had at least asked. Someone. His dad. Maybe he was already 4 beers deep and couldn't type on his phone properly, despite it only being a short while past noon. Maybe he had forgotten to plug in the charger, and his phone was just dead. Maybe he was working, probably, Jisung justified. 

He stuffed his bag to the top, adamant about not using more than his duffel bag, because that would give the impression that he was staying for a long time. That wasn’t the case, maybe he'd be back by tomorrow already. By the choice of clothes, he could at least not stay for more than two days. 

Not that Jisung cared, two days were more than enough. 

“Is Jisung home?” Minho's voice echoed in the apartment, Jisung turned around to his door when he heard Felix mumble _“yeah in his room.”_

“Jisung,” Minho opened his door, shut it behind him; Jisung could see Felix’s curious eyes, following them as much as possible. “I’ll drive you.” 

“What. No you are not.” Jisung mumbled, zipped his bag shut. “I always take the train home. Why would you drive me?” He asked. 

“You also always bring Changbin with you. I don’t want you to go alone, and _stuff_.” 

Jisung left his room, Minho trailing after him. Jisung reluctantly side-hugged Felix, murmured a goodbye. Felix mumbled something incoherent in his ears, or maybe he wasn’t even listening. Jisung looked at Minho, who stood behind them, kind of like the older friend was ridiculous. 

”I’ll check into a hotel if you don’t want me there with you.” Minho said, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Minho.” Jisung looked at him, deep into the dark irises. 

Wanted to ask what he was doing. Why was he doing this? Jisung could ask anyone one of his friends to accompany him home, Felix - they had known each other since kindergarten. Or Hyunjin, he always made Jisung feel better. Chan, Seungmin, Jeongin, anyone. But he didn’t. He didn’t ask Minho either. He had never gone home without Changbin, hadn’t gone to the home he grew up in unless it was _Changbin_ holding his hand. 

He hated that Minho asked, because he wanted Minho to follow him, Changbin had always been an immense comfort for him, but this year he wouldn’t be. Jisung didn’t ask anyone else to hold his hand, to childishly follow him home, because this year he pretended he didn’t need it. But it was _really_ fucking hard to keep up the facade when Minho came to him, and offered to drive him there, even if Jisung never asked him to. 

“Whatever. It’s your gas money. Can we go now at least? I promised to be home before tonight.” Jisung rolled his eyes, pretended he wasn’t actually relieved on some levels. 

“I’ll need to grab my bag at home but then, yes, we’ll leave now.” 

Jisung watched Minho run up to his apartment building, from where he had parked the car. Jisung was still sitting in his seat, mind occupied by how hot it was in the car, by how uncomfortable his jeans were. Black, skinny _fucking_ jeans. Why he was wearing them, he didn’t know. He groaned, ran his hand over his face, kept his eyes on the window of Minho’s bedroom, saw the figure move around swiftly in there. 

Minho came back to the car, slightly out of breath, he threw the bag in the back. Fastened his seatbelt and started driving. He didn’t say anything to Jisung, who in return remained silent. 

What had Jisung done...it was supposed to be a one-time thing. You aren’t supposed to hook up with friends, you can’t remain as friends, and if you do - you can’t hook up. Jisung and Minho were still doing both, somehow. Not often, so rarely it was enough for them to pretend they didn’t at all. What had Jisung done...it shouldn’t have happened at all. 

He couldn’t even regret it, just labeled it as yet another guilty pleasure, or bad habit he couldn’t bother to quit. Not that Minho was a bad habit. 

Maybe Jisung was Minho's bad habit. 

“You okay?” Minho asked. Way too often. 

Wasn't he tired of asking the same question over and over? Jisung was tired of answering the same thing over and over again at least. 

“Mmn. I’m fine.” 

They stopped for food, two hours in. A pretty run down burger joint by the highway, surprisingly good food, charmingly rude staff. _“Waddya want?”_

Minho dried off ketchup from Jisung’s lips with his napkin, Jisung couldn’t even utter his shock before the older one moved on like nothing had happened. It drove Jisung insane, he couldn’t deal with this now. 

“2 hours left.” Minho yawned, looked at a road sign on his right. 

“Minho.” Jisung muttered his name, stared at the cars driving past them. 

“Yeah?” 

“You can’t act like you are my boyfriend.” 

_“You have to stop acting like his boyfriend!”_ Minho heard Changbin shout at him over the phone, approximately 6 hours earlier. 

_“I’m not!”_

_“I mentioned in casual conversation that I wasn’t going with Jisung back home and you are on your way over there right now. To do what? Drive him there?”_

_“Yeah, like a friend.”_

_“A friend that also sleeps with him, and basically spends half of your waking time with him, gets jealous whenever Jisung just as much as mentions being interested in someone else. A friend that acts like his boyfriend? Come on Minho!”_ Changbin didn’t sound mad, even though he shouted, if Minho wasn’t slightly upset - he would understand that his friend was saying it with a far more concerned voice. 

Minho wanted to pretend like it was whatever, nothing at all. But it was true, unfortunately, or not; he was honest with himself. He was jealous if Jisung mentioned someone else, he himself couldn't really move past Jisung, or had been interested in anyone (else but him) since this spring. It was perhaps true that Minho had acted like Jisung’s boyfriend. It was hard to blame him when the line between best friends _with benefits_ and boyfriends were paper-thin, even Jisung had to admit that. 

There wasn’t an actual problem with Minho acting like his boyfriend, Jisung loved it, and Minho didn’t seem to mind it a bit. To have Minho by the former one's side _almost_ constantly, hugging him whenever he happened to be in the mood, or late at night when Jisung suddenly craved food he could only get on the other side of town. But it would hurt too much when Minho one day stops acting like this, because he finds someone else to spoil, so Jisung decides it’s better to stop it now. On his terms, like it’s his decision. 

“I’m sorry,” Minho answered him. He neither denied the accusation, nor did he verify it. He just clenched his fingers around the steering wheel a little bit harder and turned the music up. 

Minho would do anything for Jisung, and Jisung knew that. It filled him with glee, filled him with guilt. Made his heart beat like crazy, caused butterflies to go crazy in his stomach, it made it hard for Jisung to breathe. 

Jisung sighed, a little bit because he loved Minho. Then there were the reasons he couldn’t bother with now, instead he just pushed them far back into his head, to deal with later, when the rest of his world wasn’t imploding on itself. 

“Turn left here,” Jisung pointed, Minho slowed down; they drove slowly past houses the former was far too familiar with. “That’s Changbin’s house, and mine.” He continued, and Minho parked his car. They stepped out, breathed fresh air for what felt like the first time ever.

The porch light on Changbin’s old house turned on, out stepped an old lady. Not old, no; her complexion was still young. She hugged her cardigan around her body. 

“Jisung, it’s nice to have you home.” Her smile could be seen from where Minho and Jisung stood. “Your father has been out since early this morning, I think he’s working by the harbour.” The smile turned pitiful, but it was still on her lips. 

“It’s okay. It’s nice to see you too Mrs. Seo.” He bowed slightly, and could see Minho following him in his peripheral. 

“Come by for coffee before you leave if you have time, okay honey?” She waved at him, before entering her house again. 

The house was empty, it seemed like it had been for a while. There was this familiar smell of old beer, perhaps from the living room, or the kitchen. There were a few empty cans in the sink, as it was on the floor by the couch. 

“Lovely.” Jisung heard himself whisper, dropping his bag to the floor. 

Minho helped Jisung throw the empty cans in a trash bag, wiped the tables clean off crumbs and sticky beer. Opened a window to get fresh air into the house. 

“Are you hungry?” Minho asked, he had only taken a peek into the cupboards. They were empty, safe for a few ramen packets and boxes of cereal that were all nearly empty. The fridge too, two six-packs of beer, five bottles of soju, a carton of milk that was probably long overdue the best before date. 

“No. I’m fine. Are you?” 

Minho shook his head, they had eaten once more before finally arriving. Stomachs still full of food, Minho probably only asked out of courtesy. 

“Uh, I’ll be...heading out now. Call me when you wa-“ 

“What?” Jisung asked, interrupted Minho in the middle of his sentence. “I don’t want you to go.” 

Jisung hadn’t understood that he had given Minho the impression that he didn’t want him by Jisung’s side. Sweet Minho, gentle Minho, loving Minho, how could the former not want him by his side?

“I’m sorry Minho, don’t go. Alright?” 

“Of course not, not if you want me here, hmm?” Minho took a step closer to Jisung. 

The latter rolled his eyes, but opened his arms when he understood the older friend obviously tried to initiate a hug. It was easy to pretend like this was just bothering him, but when Minho wrapped his arms around Jisung, stroked his hair and simply hugged him in silence, Jisung almost fell apart. The friend didn’t even have to say anything, knew that if he asked if Jisung was okay, he’d just answer “yeah”.

If he were a little bit more true to his own emotions, maybe Jisung would have let himself cry. 

Minho startled awake when the door down the hallway opened and closed with a bang in the middle of the night. Stirring and sitting up in Jisung’s bed, trying to locate where it came from. 

Jisung’s childhood room was bigger than Minho expected it to be, the walls were painted dark green and there was still stuff from his old school hung up on the walls. They were sharing Jisung’s single bed, hard not to lay skin to skin next to each other, sharing Jisung’s single duvet; superhero-themed and worn out. There was a photo frame on his dresser, that Minho could only see the contours of in the dark. 

It looked like the room hadn’t been touched for a long while when they first came here, of course; Jisung was only home about once a year, and no one was in here but him.

“Relax, it’s probably my dad coming home,” Jisung muttered out, still half asleep. 

He reached out for Minho’s shoulder, to push him down to the bed again. It took a few seconds for him to do so, maybe still trying to figure out if it was indeed Jisung’s father, or a burglar. 

When he finally laid back down, Jisung repositioned himself, laid his head on Minho's shoulder, stretched out an arm over his chest. It wasn’t like Jisung, normally he always slept with his back facing Minho, leaving a few centimeters of space between them, for good measure. He wasn’t fully awake now; perhaps he wasn’t really aware of what he was doing. 

“Minho…” he whispered, just as Minho was about to fall back asleep. 

“Mhm?” 

“Thank you.” 

Jisung kissed him, just a light peck on his lips, before turning around again, like it never really happened. 

####  _11 August, 2020_

When Jisung opened his eyes in the morning, they instantly met with Minho’s dark irises. Staring at him through half-lidded eyes, almost like he was about to fall asleep. It didn’t even seem like Minho was aware he was staring. 

If it weren’t for the slow (but at least audible) breathing, and the fact that he blinked occasionally; Jisung would have thought he passed in his sleep. 

“Am I handsome?” Jisung asked, voice cracking from not speaking. 

Minho sure enough nodded, but instead of answering he just yawned. Dried off the tear that formed in his eye with the back of his hand. 

“You okay?” Jisung sat up slightly, rested his head in his hand. 

“Your dad... have fucking been up since...the break of dawn. Don’t know how you sleep through it.” Minho rubbed his eyes, groaned. 

“I’m used to it.” 

Jisung crept a bit closer to Minho, he needed it today; he hummed a melody Minho didn’t seem familiar with, his eyebrows furrowed together, trying to figure out what the former was doing. 

“I-“ Jisung began his sentence without thinking how to end it. Minho's eyes hadn’t left Jisung since he woke up, it was the only thing that occupied Jisung’s mind. 

Peachy cheeks and peachy lips, peachy perfume permanently latched onto Minho's skin. Jisung leaned down and kissed the peachy lips, watched the already peachy cheeks turn into an even more intense color, imagined how he would be able to smell Minho's peachy perfume on himself later. 

This wasn’t like Jisung, but today wasn’t like any other day. He was thrown out of orbit; no way to properly regulate what was going on inside (not that he often knew how to do that). Jisung just gotta deal with his problem in the most unhealthy ways properly. 

Minho stroked Jisung’s chin. Kissed him back, let himself drown in the absolute storm that was Jisung. 

“Jisung are you up- oh- oh sorry- sorry to distur-I’ll go- sorry sorry!” 

The former practically fell off his bed, when the door opened in a surprise - before closing again. Minho hit his head on the wall when he recoiled backward, winced in pain. 

_Cough, cough._

Jisung, his father, and Minho sat around the round dinner table, there were still pencil marks on it from when he was younger. Jisung was drinking a cup of coffee, as did Minho. Jisung’s father was drinking directly from his bottle of beer. It was silent, and Jisung’s ears perked up every time a car drove by outside, catching every little sound around them. 

“It’s 10 AM dad.” Jisung muttred, pointed at the bottle in his hand. 

“It’s just 2%, it’s not even real beer.” He coughed out, stroking himself in the scruffy beard before looking up at his son again. “I didn’t know- uh- you would bring company. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” 

“You think I drove here in my own nice car with my very existent drivers license?” Monotone and sarcastic. 

“I wouldn’t know, haven’t seen you since-” _Last year. Since last year._

His dad cut the sentence short, perhaps feeling guilty for letting it go so far in between them meeting each other. Not even on Christmas, his father was working anyway. Not on New Years', Jisung was busy celebrating with friends. Not on Easter, it wasn’t like they had ever celebrated it, why bother starting now?

“I’ve never seen you before?” Jisung’s dad asked Minho instead, who widened his eyes at the sudden attention. 

“Lee Minho...sir,” He held out a hand for him to shake, a hand Jisung’s father just swatted away. " _No need"_ he mumbled, but Minho didn’t really catch it. 

“He’s a friend. From college, if you remember that I’m still in college.” Jisung said, stirring his coffee with the spoon that was in it. 

“Of course I do,” Jisung’s dad stood up from the table, threw his bottle in the trash bag Jisung and Minho had left in the kitchen last night. It crashed against another bottle in there, perhaps shattering them both. 

Jisung watched him walk around, figure short and back a bit hunched; he seemed to limp a little bit in his left leg; but whether it was old nerves hurting or a serious problem Jisung didn’t know. Frankly, his father probably didn’t either. He opened the fridge, maybe tempted by the case of beer, but ever so aware of his judging son. 

It was obvious he was nervous, sitting on needles, the tired eyes searching for new things to stare at when it was too much to look at his son. Felt the invasive and strange presence of Minho. Felt weak because today was today. 

“I’m working 12-5,” Jisung’s father coughed again, like an old man, like his lungs were about to give up. “We can light a candle when I get home.” 

Then he brought out another can of beer, this wasn’t a 2% “not even real” beer, he cracked it open, left the kitchen with the condensation dripping down the side of the can. Left Jisung and Minho to sit there in silence. He had his bad habits, many of whom Jisung had inherited, especially because Jisung didn’t get a chance to have another influence in his life. 

_“Every fucking year.”_ Jisung left too, Minho heard him slam the door to his room shut. It took a few minutes for him to follow, to finally rise from the table and walk the same way as Jisung. He passed the doorway with numbers etched into the frame, stopping at _5 years old, 112 cm_ , he passed Jisung’s father sitting in what looked like to be an office, head in hands, beer already on its side empty. 

Minho didn’t bother with asking if Jisung was okay, too familiar with the answer he would give despite how he was actually feeling. So he sat down next to Jisung, intertwined his fingers with him, took a deep breath; hoped Jisung would follow. 

Wanted to whisper an _“I'm here”_ or an “ _I_ _love you, you know that right?”_ Minho was at a loss of words, and Jisung knew that. So why bother?

It probably took Jisung another 20 minutes before he broke the silence. 

“Can you come with me?” 

“Where?” Was what Minho asked, but the answer would be yes nevertheless. 

“Where me and my dad scattered her ashes.” 

Was there a need for Minho to say yes? Probably not, but when he whispered a _yeah_ Jisung let out a breath he had been holding. 

Minho wasn’t in shape to walk up the hill Jisung was taking him, especially not in the midst of the hot afternoon. It was sweaty and uncomfortable, but he walked right behind Jisung and didn’t make a noise. His hand was clasped in Jisung’s, had been for the entire walk. The full three miles from Jisung’s house, and since the beginning of the hill. Though mountain was _almost_ a better word. 

“Ah,” Jisung let go of Minho and fell to his knees when they reached the top. Felt the soft grass underneath his fingers, rolled to his back. He followed clouds with his eyes before closing them, took a breath like it was his last one. Smiled at the sun, taking in whatever warmth he could get before it would run through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. 

There was a single tree up there, on the hill, an oak one; gigantic and mighty. You’d be able to climb to heaven from it. At the edge of the hill, opposite from where they had come from; there was a sharp fall. What felt like hundreds and hundreds of feet, but down there, there was a lake. Jisung explained that the water would look red during autumn, when the leaves from the oak tree fell from their branches and traveled their way down there. 

It was so silent up here Jisung couldn’t hear his heart beating, like he was dead too, he only heard the faint whistling of the wind and Minho's footsteps. He leaned his back against the tree trunk, despite the uncomfortable bark. 

Minho walked up to him, sat down next to him, let his silent heart beat in sync with him. 

“It’s pretty. I could imagine why you scattered her ashes here.” Minho said. Honest and simple, didn’t walk on eggshells at all. Jisung had gotten used to his mother’s death being some sort of forbidden subject, of course, he has probably accidentally been the biggest enforcer of that. Never mentioning her, and moving on as fast as he could if his parents ever became the subject of the conversation. 

“Mnmm, they travelled with the wind, alongside the leaves that fell too early,” Jisung caught a leaf swirling around them. _A soul not ready to leave, guided by leaves who weren’t supposed to fall._ “She must have travelled the whole world by this point, but a part of her is still here.” Jisung caressed the grass underneath them, glanced around him, perhaps expecting to see her. Just a glimpse or a shadow of her figure. 

“My dad used to take me up here, the first few years. Don’t think he could handle it, so he worked instead, got wasted, lit a single candle for her by a picture frame that’s older than me. So I took Changbin, we sat here until it turned pitch-black outside, then I walked home; because I knew mom wouldn’t want me out late.” 

“I wonder how long...it is until I start to just, light a candle instead of this. How long it is until I’ll end up like dad, because it’s too hard.”

Jisung’s voice was somber, but he didn’t break into a single tear. His voice didn’t crack, he barely frowned. He felt a lot, but couldn’t get a single thing out of him. Just reminisce about sad memories of his mother, sadder memories of his dad turning into someone who wasn't far from a stranger.

This moment right now, would perhaps be yet another sad memory in a few years; when Jisung no longer walked up this hill in blazing sunlight, but rather lit a sad little candle. Just like his father. 

He sighed, like he couldn’t express himself in any other way. 

“If it ever becomes too hard to walk this way, I’ll carry you.” Minho said, it was almost a declaration of love. At least if “almost” meant “definitely”.

“Thank you,” Was all Jisung could say, even if it really meant “I love you too.” 

After they had taken another stroll back and forth on the hill, observed their surroundings, after Jisung had said yet another goodbye to his mother, they slowly walked downhill. The goodbye would travel the winds to wherever his mother was. Whether it was up the oak tree into heaven, or in the tranquil water in the lake below them. Even if her soul was now scattered into every crevice of earth, the wind _would_ carry his goodbye there in the exact same way it showed Jisung’s mother the way, 17 years ago. Wherever she now went. 

Jisung didn’t admit it, maybe ashamed, but it wasn’t easier now than what it was all those years ago when he walked downhill with his father for the first time. When his father held Jisung with one of his hands, and carried an empty urn in the other. 

Jisung couldn’t recall if he had ever seen his father cry, not even at his mother’s funeral. So Jisung didn’t either, to pretend he was tough, like he wasn’t hurting; somewhere along the way of pretending he was _tough_ and like he wasn’t _hurting,_ the walls he had built around his heart became too thick, too high. 

The candle was lit, Jisung’s father was asleep on the couch, there were seven new cans of beer on the floor below him.

“Can we leave now?” Jisung asked, felt uncomfortable in the presence of his own home. 

Minho glanced at his wristwatch, it was 6:30. “Are you sure, we won’t be home till around midnight?” 

Jisung hummed, went to his room and packed his bag, Minho followed him too. Laid a careful hand on his shoulder, spoke almost soundlessly. 

“You should wake your dad before you leave.” He whispered, Jisung looked at him from his periphery. Didn’t answer him. 

“Can..we just go?” Jisung coughed. 

“‘Kay.” Minho brushed out any hair from Jisung’s face, then he took the few pieces of clothing he had scattered on the floor and folded them into his bag too. 

Minho heard Jisung take a deep breath, zip his bag shut. He buttoned his jacket, pulled his beanie all the way to his forehead. He huffed when he strapped his bag over his chest; suddenly it felt heavy. 

They shut Jisung’s bedroom door with caution, Jisung seemed to be afraid to make too much noise. Once again hand in hand they walked down the hallway, past various framed pictures on the wall. Most of them were old, only a couple from when Jisung was older than five. Like time had stopped at that age. 

Jisung’s height carved into the doorway, the drawings were all from kindergarten, and the only pictures older than that is the one from Jisung’s high school graduation. 

Together they passed Jisung’s father, still fast asleep, snoring lightly from his awkward position on the couch. Jisung stopped in his tracks, couldn’t drag his eyes away from his father. 

“Minho…” Jisung didn’t look at him, nor did he elaborate on the sentence he began. 

“Hey. I’ll get the car going, uh, just come out when you are ready.” Minho understood, somehow, what the former wanted to say. So he let go of his hand, and walked through the entrance, eyes only glancing back at Jisung once. 

For the nth time this day Jisung sighed, slumped down on the couch next to his dad. He looked at him, for long, studied the old man's face. Way too similar to Jisung, he seemed to have inherited every single trait from his father. Everything from the bad to the...well Jisung didn’t really think there was much of the good, even if his built-up _fake_ confidence sometimes said otherwise. 

The candle had almost burnt to the bottom, Jisung blew it out; watched the smoke trail from the wick to the ceiling in a hypnotizing pattern. The candle stood in front of Jisung’s parents wedding photo, when could it have been? ‘95? ‘96? Something like that. 

They were happy, as they were when they got their first and only son. Overjoyed to be specific. Jisung couldn’t imagine having more loving parents as a child. 

Did that really change when his mother passed? He didn’t know, his father probably still loved him, like Jisung loved his father. 

However, it would be foolish to pretend like their love was the same as it was. It was more like loving a stranger, distant and awkward. They didn’t talk anymore, they didn’t call each other on Christmas, nor on their birthdays. Jisung was grown up by now, and often cut out people from his life who he didn’t fit with, that’s why he had this close circle of friends he loved, and loved him back. He wanted to cut his father out of his life, because what was the point? Just two strangers, two sad strangers _barely_ getting together once a year to mourn a death that never gets easier. Only to then grieve privately, like they had always done. 

But they still _loved_ each other. Like a lonely father loves his lonely son, even if they were nothing but strangers now. 

“Dad. I’m going,” Jisung poked him, watched him startle awake. For being such a heavy sleeper he was surprisingly easy to wake up. 

His father took a look at the no longer lit candle, then at the wedding picture. He nodded. 

“Drive safe…it was nice...seeing your face.” he coughed, reached for the can on the table in front of him, put it down again when he realized it was empty. 

“Take care dad.” Jisung stood up, walked to the door, and wondered if it would be a full year until he saw his home again. That’s likely isn’t it? 

“Jisung,” Jisung could practically hear his father's joints crack when he stood up, “Hold onto that kid, that Minho. You seem to have found...the right one.” 

Jisung widened his eyes, nodded like it was a promise. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” 

And like that Jisung left, entered Minho's car. He was playing soft music. The kind of music Jisung loved but pretended he didn’t, because he was secretly afraid his friends would tease him for it. Not Minho though. Never Minho. Not when they were together. Jisung’s dad was right, for the first fucking time in the history of history. 

Jisung had found his one, never intended to let him go either. The realization hit him 3 hours into the 5 hour drive, like a truck driving in the wrong lane. Jisung was pretending to be asleep, head leaning against the cold car window, when Minho took a call. 

_“Yes sir- no I’ll be back at work tomorrow. Apologizes for calling in so suddenly. Mmnm, yes, I had a family emergency. Sorry.”_

God. Minho didn’t even have to spell out “I love you”, it was too obvious. Jisung hated it, or he loved it. He didn’t know. He loved Minho back too, in more ways than what was possible. 

A New Years resolution rang in his ears. 

2 hours later, when they were almost home; Jisung turned to Minho, “Can I sleep at your place tonight?” 

Minho answered yes too fast, didn’t even hesitate. 

For the first time in a long time, perhaps because Jisung needed it, he didn’t scoot to the very end of the bed. No, he held Minho's hand in his, kissed his temple when he knew the older one was asleep. Tried to make sure he knew Jisung loved him; even if he couldn’t possibly say it out loud. _I love you, I love you, I love you._ He repeated in his head, hoped Minho could hear his thoughts. 

####  _14 September 2020_

“Happy birthday,” Minho spoke against Jisung’s lips. He bumped their foreheads together. “Admit it, I gave you the best present.” He laughed, kissed a line from his jaw to the middle of his chest. 

“Just because you brought me to a fancy hotel?” Jisung encircled his arms around Minho’s neck. 

“Exactly why, bought you that nice wine too. I know you liked it.” 

Jisung giggled, nodded. His lips curled up in a smirk, an evil one. 

“But Chan got me that sweater I’ve wanted since like the beginning of summer.” 

Minho sat up, rested his hands on each side of Jisung’s body. Gasped dramatically, like he couldn’t believe what he heard. 

“I got you that shirt too! That super fucking stupid one that I knew you would like! Right?!” 

“Mnhmm, it was very hilarious.” Jisung glanced at the blue bag on the floor. The t-shirt was bright orange, it was stupid; he couldn’t quite make sense of the quote on the back (but maybe that made it funnier). “ _Gay? fine by me. Marijuana is safer than alcohol.”_

The older friend was right, Jisung liked it, and would happily sport it in public, especially with his nice black shades and the black cargo pants he bought a while ago. 

“You are right, I love it. Don’t tell the other ones, but you got me the best present,” Jisung placed his hands on Minho’s cheeks, caressed them, ran his thumbs over the peachy color. " _I love you."_ He thought, but the words never made it past that state. 

####  _24 October 2020_

“Happy birthday to you~ happy birthday to you~ happy birthday dear Minho~ happy birthday to youuu~” Jisung hurried to put the lighter back in his pocket when Minho’s door swung open, as if to pretend the candle on the small pastry had been lit for the entire time. 

The older one looked flabbergasted, yet impressed and excited, eyes widening a size. 

“It’s not my birthday yet,” He took a step aside and let Jisung step in, who carried the pastry with great caution. Put it down on the counter and jumped up and down in his place, ignoring Minho’s remark completely. _“Blow it out! Before the candle-grease reaches the cream!”_

Minho blew it out, closed his eyes for a second to make a wish; before turning back to Jisung. 

“It’s still not my birthday,” He pointed out, yet again. 

“I know, but it is in three hours; I want to be the first one to congratulate you. I think we could pass the time somehow…” Jisung lifted the bag in his hand, took out 4 bottles of the alcohol he and Minho had gotten quite acquainted with in the last few months. 

When the clock struck midnight, Jisung once again began the song, gladly singing from beginning to end, finally giving Minho permission to eat the cream pastry he had brought. Well, Jisung had taken it upon himself to feed Minho; did his best to aim for the pastry with the fork, the movement not nearly as straight as he wanted it to be. He hit the side of Minho’s mouth once, before finally aimed right. The trail of cream in the corner of Minho's mouth was evidence enough that Jisung was past tipsy. 

“Happy birthday…” Jisung kissed Minho, licked the cream off him. Couldn’t help but smile when Minho’s cheeks turned that lovely shade of peachy pink. 

“Thank you,” 

“I’m sorry I’m short on money...so I can’t spoil you like you spoiled me. But...I DIY’d something for you.” 

Minho glanced at him, he seemed intrigued, but kept his lips sealed. Jisung pulled out a deck of cards, it looked much like the one Minho already owned. 

The former could sense that he was about to comment just that, _“I already have one,”,_ Jisung smiled, shuffled them in his hands, he didn't avert his eyes from Minho though. 

“See,” He hopped a bit closer to Minho, he kept his voice low in a whisper, not that anyone would hear him. “We could play a small game of Go Fish, and if you play your cards right, well…” 

Jisung held up the deck in front of him, the back of the cards facing Minho; he wanted the older one to pick one. Which he reluctantly did, ace of hearts to be exact. What a lucky card. 

He read what Jisung had written on the card, black marker on the red card. It would stay between Jisung and Minho, forever, definitely. It would be a birthday present Minho would have a hard time forgetting, even if it wasn’t as grand or expensive as other gifts he had received. 

“This is quite…obscene.” He mumbled, but accepted the invitation to the game with a kiss and a smile on his face. 

####  _31 October 2020_

Jisung's and Minho's relationship was complicated, more than what it had to be perhaps, but complicated nevertheless. 

The latter had let a little secret out, during his and Jisung’s game of Go Fish, it was with a smile on his lips and the apples of his cheeks bright red. Something he had never told anyone, a secret only he and someone else knew. Jisung knew now too. 

_“Me and Hyunjin broke up because he thought I liked you… but shhh, don’t tell anyone,”_ and Minho giggled, and so did Jisung, because he didn’t really understand what the older friend had said until the morning. 

And he understood, when he sat on the bus on his way home that morning, purple bruises on his neck and a headache already coming up from the night that he had spent with Minho; realization hit him, their relationship wasn’t what he thought it was either. 

It was complicated. 

Minho wasn’t just Jisung’s best friend (with benefits), nor was he just one of few stable pillars in his life. He was more, and Jisung feared that. 

What was it? The fact that Jisung hadn’t been his usual self since that night back in March, didn’t hook up with random people on Friday nights, he didn’t seek attention from anyone else, because _constantly_ since that night back in March Minho had been giving it to him. Hushed whispers, soft kisses, holding his hand, spoiling him with a luxurious hotel room and fancy wine. Minho loved him. 

Jisung didn’t like that. 

Mostly because Jisung realized he maybe likes Minho more than he liked to admit. Not in just like- a friend way, of course, he loved Minho very much as a friend (even if he realized he had never really said it). But that feeling of _needing_ Minho, feeling like he and Minho were two halves of a whole. Feeling something _more._ Like the love wasn’t limited to platonic feelings anymore. 

Disgusting, Jisung laughed to himself. Mixed the vodka in his red solo cup with half a can of the pink monster, stirred it with his finger; before cheering with Felix. Pretending everything was fine. 

Jisung had always believed he couldn’t form a deeper emotional bond with anyone. Well not deeper than the platonic one he had with Changbin, his phantom twin, a brother from another mother, all that bullshit you know? And he certainly didn’t think he could form a deep romantic one, with well, anyone. Until he met Minho. 

23 years, and had never felt more than a mere emotionless attraction towards anyone. Until he met Minho. 

_“Fucking_ Minho, man.” He cursed the friend in his head. Was he just a friend? Who cares. Jisung doesn’t, at least he pretends he doesn’t. 

“Hey,” Jisung greeted Chan at the door by the club, Felix took his jacket to check it in. Chan wore a big coat and a red velvet shirt. He wore actual fangs and had fake blood smeared on his face. Hyunjin came up to them, wearing what looked like an old Victorian blouse, his face was painted pale and he had dotted two red spots on his neck. 

“Where is everyone?” Jisung had to scream into Chan’s ear, for him to be able to hear. There were a lot of people here tonight, as was expected of Halloween night. Bodies drowning on the dance floor, almost every table by the bar occupied. 

“Ohhh...Minho ‘nd Changbin is by the bar. Seungmin and Jeongin called like five minutes ago and they were in the cab then. Probably getting here soon.”

Jisung nodded, watched the older friend kind of dance away, over to Minho and Changbin. 

Hyunjin swung his arm around Jisung’s neck, tried to get him out on the dance floor already, despite Jisung claiming that he wasn’t drunk enough yet. 

“I can’t dance!”

“Everyone can, come on.” 

Convinced, perhaps barely, but still convinced, he intertwined his fingers with Hyunjin and let him fully lead him. Swaying to the beat of the music in the same way as the other one. Occasionally bumping into one another, or accidentally elbowing someone who came a bit too close, taking a step too much to his right and stepping on someone's toes. 

Jisung caught Minho staring at him, a little bit of twinkle in his eyes. It looked as if Minho was in deep conversation with Changbin and Chan, when he just _simply_ distracted by something, someone, Jisung. 

He was out of breath, he felt sweat run down his back, despite the dancefloor already being all too full, people were still joining. Jisung saw Felix coming from the bathrooms, zigzagging between bodies to get to Hyunjin and him. Dressed in all red with a pair of devil horns on his head. 

“Hey dance with Felix instead, I’m ‘bout to pass out.” Jisung managed to communicate to Hyunjin, who just wiped his forehead clean of sweat, and grabbed Felix’s hand instead of Jisung. Waved him away, as if to say _“yeah I noticed”_ back to him. 

“Jisung!” Seungmin turned around in his seat to look at Jisung come over, he and Jeongin sat around a small table of two, dressed like they came out of grease. Both wore skin tight leather jackets, Seungmin’s jeans were blue and loose. Jeongin wore a sleeveless black shirt underneath the jacket. Jisung managed to catch a glimpse of skin, he paired it with almost a replica of the pants John Travolta wore in the movie. It must have been Jeongin’s idea, he had been _obsessed_ with grease lately. Watched all of the movies repeatedly, even claiming the second one is better than the first one. 

“M’gentlemen have finally arrived.” Jisung bowed and laughed, placed a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder. 

“What do you mean, we have been here for like half an hour,” Jeongin leaned his head back, looked at Jisung from below. 

“I’ve been dancing for half a fucking hour? Christ, I need a drink.” Jisung tipped off a pretend hat, and walked towards the bar. Behind him he heard Seungmin shout; 

“Water between every glass!” 

Absolutely not, it defeats the purpose of drinking - to get drunk. 

“My boys,” Jisung proceeded to greet the last 3 friends, before reaching over the bar to order himself a glass of...whatever was the first drink on the menu. Long island iced tea? Sounds good. 

“Jisung,” The chorus of their three voices blended well together. “What are you dressed as?” Changbin asked, eyebrows disappearing to his hairline, hidden under the…? the Mario hat, ah, Changbin was dressed as Mario. Pretty low effort, Jisung could almost bet on Changbin running off today to buy the costume. 

“Well nothing specific, but I’m from the ’90s.” 

He took a step back, to allow his friends to fully take in how gorgeous he found himself. Baby blue sweaters tied loosely around his waist, practically hanging off his hip bones. The white crop top cut below his ribs, big red Nike logo on his back. Felix had helped Jisung get that _perfect_ Johnny Depp hairstyle, slicked back with a signature swirl hanging in front of his forehead. 

“Wow, can you be any more excited?” He asked, sarcasm lingering in his voice, from the lack of response. 

Everyone sat their glasses down, did a round of applause for him; which Jisung pretended he hated, but of course, deep down really loved. 

He felt a hand ghost past his lower back, cold, yet soft. Careful. Minho looked at him, nodded, complimenting the outfit without having to open his mouth. 

_“You’re pretty too,”_ Jisung mouthed, reached over to pinch his cheek. Minho wore a silver crown, sitting delicately on the styled hair. He got away with wearing a simple blazer, distracting everyone by wearing a black _almost_ sheer button up, silver accessories on the collar; and revealing just enough chest. 

They cheered to something, Jisung didn’t know, nor did he care enough to figure it out. But it was a cheer, they hit their glasses against each other hard. They went rounds telling stories, Jisung didn’t even know what he was laughing at anymore, but he was. He liked that, found that he just felt happy. 

_Happy._

“Hey I’m going out a second for air,” Chan drank the last two sips out of his glass and stood up. 

“Ah I need to use the bathroom too,” Jisung stretched his arms over his head, letting the shirt ride up. 

Changbin joined him too, leaving just Minho by the bar alone. 

When Jisung and Changbin were done and washing their hands in silence, the former could see Changbin staring at him, in his peripheral vision. Changbin shook his hands, dried them on his overalls. 

He leaned against the sink, crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You good?” He finally let out. 

“Mmnm, absolutely. You?” Jisung asked too, to which Changbin nodded. 

“Just wondering, before we go out there you know. It’s been like half a year, but...what’s up with you and Minho?” 

Jisung sensed that there was something else to the question, a whole interrogation simmering inside Changbin. 

“We’re friends, who sometimes; _you know.”_

“No,” Changbin shook his head. “You’re not. You know that. I told Minho months ago to stop acting like he's your boyfriend and he literally hasn’t stopped. And you let him. ” Jisung looked at Changbin now, turned his entire body so he could look at the other. 

”You guys like each other. It’s not just friends anymore.” Changbin said, like he had connected two obvious dots. 

“Yes it is.” 

“No it isn’t.” 

“Yes.” Jisung stood his ground. But so did Changbin. 

“So if I told you Minho's classmate is here and has been checking Minho out the whole evening, that doesn’t make you jealous. At all.” 

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, pretend that Changbin was ridiculous. 

“Fuck you. And no it wouldn’t.” Then he left. Plain and simple. Didn't appreciate taking criticism on his and Minho's relationship in a dim bar bathroom that smelled like shit. So fuck Changbin for bringing it up in the first place. Jisung placed his hand over his ears when he saw the latter opening his mouth again, he blew raspberries at him. 

Fuck Jisung, because yes he was jealous, but he didn’t like being called out for it. 

Minho was sitting with his back facing Jisung, his shoulders were moving, like he was laughing. He was talking to someone. 

He was tall and sculpted, wearing fireman pants and suspenders, he smiled at Minho, and frankly seemed very friendly. But he clearly had another intention in mind. 

Fuck Jisung, because he was _so_ jealous.

“Hey,” Jisung circled his arms around Minho's neck from behind, resting his chin on Minho's shoulder. Took a proper look at the one talking to him. 

“Hey, where is Changbin?” Minho made no effort in commenting on Jisung’s strange behavior. In his weirdly affectionate one. 

“Don’t know. Maybe he died.” Jisung smiled, looked at the one in front of Minho once again, up and down. 

“Jisung...this is an old classmate of mine. From marketing.” 

“Fun,” Jisung reached over Minho's shoulder to shake the stranger's hand. 

“Junho,” he bowed in his seat, looking a bit sour at Jisung interrupting them. 

There was too much joy in that, Jisung found. Knowing Junho wouldn’t continue flirting when he was here, disturbing them. Found it even funnier when Minho didn’t fight Jisung off him, not even when Jisung walked around him, and leaned into the other one's lap from the side. Half standing up, half sitting down.

Minho let his arm rest around Jisung’s waist, cold hands on warm skin. He continued his short conversation with Junho, Jisung remained quiet, sipped small amounts of his drink; barely tuning into the conversation. Changbin didn’t come back, so it seemed. Jisung thought he caught the red hat by a table, far away from them. 

Jisung leaned into Minho further, he tilted his head back, to rest in the crook of Minho’s neck. He was wearing that peach-scented perfume, Jisung liked it. So much. 

“It was...nice seeing you,” Junho finally raised to his feet, sighed with that half-hearted smile on his lips. 

“You too,” He waved, watched as the old classmate walked over to his group of friends again. Half of them with pity on their faces, the other half laughing at his failed attempt to woo Minho. 

With him gone, Jisung could confidently kiss him, not on the lips; as if that was too personal or intimate. It was a mere peck on his temple. 

“Did he flirt with you?” Jisung asked, took a step around him, to stand in front of him instead. Minho’s hands were still on his waist, his eyes followed Jisung’s light brown ones. 

“Yes.” 

“Did you flirt back?” 

“Are you going to be jealous when I say yes?” Minho asked. “Or were you jealous already, long before you came over?” 

Jisung remained quiet, for a second. To think about his answer. 

“No, I’m not jealous. He wanted you, but you’re already mine. Right?” 

  
Like Minho was wrapped around Jisung’s little finger, his cheeks turned a shade pinker, he nodded. Because he was Jisung’s. 

And they kissed. Slow and affectionate, it was simple, not anything like their relationship. 

They held each other in their hands when they moved over to the dancefloor, chest pressed together. Lips on each other. Minho smiled, caressed one of Jisung’s cheeks with his thumb. Time moved slowly, they were the only two there, no one else existed. Just Jisung and Minho. It may be true that Minho was Jisung’s, but the younger one had overlooked the fact that he was Minho’s too. 

Deep down he knew that. Ever since that night in March when Jisung claimed they were about to do something stupid. Ever since he had been Minho’s, as Minho had been his.

Deep down, Jisung probably loved him; more than as his best friend, more than anyone. 

“I love you,” Minho breathed out, kissed Jisung on the apples of his cheeks, on the tip of his nose, on the corners of his mouth. 

“Hah, don’t say it like that.” Jisung laughed it off, but his cheeks turned pink nevertheless. 

“Like what?” 

“Like you…” Jisung thought of it, “…mean it.” 

“I do though.” 

Jisung pushed Minho off him and laughed again. Felt goosebumps run up his arms when the duvet slipped off him. 

“No, you know what I’m talking about.” 

“Yeah,” Minho rested his head in his hand, there was a little bit of eyeshadow left on his lids, though most of it was smudged. “I still mean it.” 

In most instances, Jisung appreciated it when Minho was honest and upfront, found the trait both respectable and endearing. But sometimes he wished the older one could lie. It wasn’t fair for Jisung to ask Minho to suppress his emotions like Jisung did with his; yet, that was what he wished for him to do. 

“Don’t.” Jisung looked away from Minho, like it would put an end to their conversation. 

“What are we Jisung?” 

Like it was the most natural reaction to the question, Jisung wanted to joke. The only way he had ever been able to handle things like this, with a small ridiculous joke to lighten the tension around them. But the situation was too familiar with one he had had months ago. 

That night in March, he recalled. What was her name...Jenny? Jenny yeah, she had asked him the exact same question, and to summarize it with a “TLDR”, he just got dressed, left her dorm in a hurry, and never saw her again. He forced Minho to pick him up, they got drunk; well, the rest is history. 

So why did Minho have to ask the same question now? Who would pick Jisung up in the middle of the night if he had to leave, who would get drunk with him, who would be the Minho to Jisung if it wasn’t actually Minho? 

“Friends…?” Jisung said, he sat up in Minho’s bed. It felt wrong, they weren’t just friends. “with bene...fits?” 

Minho’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He squinted the dark eyes. Jisung pulled his knees up to his chest, rested his chin on them. 

“Friends with benefits. But I’m _yours_ , and you are _mine?”_

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“You need to be honest,” Minho inched closer. 

“We should have known it when I picked you up that night, or when I showed up at your apartment, when we started to spend more time together than apart that we fucked up. I fucked up Jisung, okay? Because I let myself fall in love with you. So hard, there’s a Minho shaped hole all the way down to the earth’s core.” He laughed, before turning serious all of a sudden. “Will you ever love me, like I do you?” 

Jisung wanted to yell at him, _“Yes of course! I do! I love you!”_ But the words stuck like glue in his throat. 

It was _complicated._ He was used to people leaving, he was used to leaving before people could leave _him._ Why couldn’t Minho leave, when he broke up with Hyunjin years ago. Fucking _last one in, first one out._ Everyone knew Hyunjin first, it’s basically bro code to stay with your friend and curse his ex like he was the devil himself. 

Why couldn’t Minho leave before Jisung let _himself_ fall in love with him? Why couldn’t Jisung leave before he himself fell from heaven into Minho's arms? That's what everyone had always done, either they left before Jisung even had the chance to form something more than a crush. Or Jisung left as soon as the crush became too serious. Why was it different now? 

Because it was Minho. It was always him. 

Minho. He never hesitated to go along with Jisung’s dumb ideas or adventures. He feigned a family emergency in front of his boss, just to accompany Jisung during arguably the worst time of the year. He promised to carry him when he couldn’t walk. Minho who loved him. Minho. Minho. Minho. 

Jisung was quiet. He laid down, tried to make himself as comfortable as he could get. Tucking in the duvet around him. The room was dark, he shouldn’t be able to see Minho, but he did. 

“Lie down.” He said, Minho obliged. 

He laid his small hand over Minho's, tightened his grip on it. The words he wanted to say lingered on his tongue. 

_“Minho, your gravity is so strong I revolve around you like a lonely planet. You feel like how spring feels after a harsh winter, you are a dream that feels out of reach yet a reality that God has gifted me. I haven’t looked at anyone like I looked at you the first time we met, even if you looked stuck up and pretentious. I fooled myself into believing we were too different, nothing could ever happen. But opposites attract. I love you. For all of those reasons and a hundred more.”_

Jisung scoffed. Mostly to himself, because he couldn’t get himself to say those things. Even if he meant it.

“Honestly. Hand over heart honestly. Swearing on my mother’s grave honestly. I’ve got fucking issues dude, I can’t tell you I L-word you because it’s probably been a decade since I last told anyone that. I don’t like opening up and I’m afraid all of the time that you’ll leave me, all of you. But especially you, everyday since March I have been afraid you're gonna turn around and leave. To make everything 10 times worse my life’s a mess, and I hate myself. I thought I would be dead at 18 but now I’m 23 and I have no plan with life. I really fucking hate everything. Seriously." He sighed, "But it has been easier since, that- you know, night back in March when we were really stupid. Because I- I think- really think I L-word you, and it feels nice to have someone like _you_ by my side when it sucks.” Jisung turned his head to look at Minho, whose eyes looked like diamonds even in the dark. 

A big part of Jisung felt like suffocating now, the exact opposite of how one should when getting stuff off your chest. But it’s like that small moment in between getting air again, when you feel like dying. Fortunately, another part of him smiled when Minho seemed relieved when Minho intertwined their hands and bit the insides of his cheeks to suppress his smile. 

“I- lesbian you. Dude,” Jisung confessed. Because that was as close as he could get. 

“I lesbian you too.” Minho laughed, but flicked Jisung’s forehead with his free hand, just to immediately kiss the now red mark. 

“We can work on it,” Minho settled into Jisung’s side, who sighed like he’d been holding his breath. The latter rested his head on his shoulder, stroked the back of Minho’s hand with his thumb. Maybe he hummed as an answer, or he remained silent. “Okay, Jisung? It’s not like I demand marriage tomorrow, I just had to know we were on the same wavelength, don’t worry.” Jisung nodded. 

“We don’t have to run, mhm? Let’s walk at our own pace.” He continued, nuzzled his chin against the top of Jisung’s head. Maybe kissed his hair in the process. 

Jisung closed his eyes, felt at peace, despite that his heart often felt turbulent, that he felt like a thunderstorm interrupting a quiet summer night. With Minho it was a little bit more comfortable, made him feel like he wasn’t just _trouble_ or a nuisance. He was something worth waiting for. 

####  _1 January 2021_

“Happy New Year.” 

“Happy New Year…” 

Minho squished Jisung’s cheeks together, they were pink from the cold, perhaps another shade pinker from the one too many glasses of champagne they have had. Jisung could smell the faint scent of peach on Minho’s wrists. He admired the peach blush on Minho’s face, and even more the peachy gloss on his lips. So _beautiful._

Fireworks exploded in the sky, Jisung lost his grip on his plastic glass, he let it fall to the ground. Minho kissed him, sloppy and careless. His hands were in Jisung’s hair and on his back. Jisung’s own hands sneaked up under the former's padded jacket, cold fingertips teasing the hot skin underneath his shirt. Another firework was heard whistling in the distance, before blowing up in every color of the rainbow. 

“Oh my god, get a room! Boo!” Seungmin shouted, from afar, Jisung felt something hit the back of his head, and when he turned around he small a handful of popcorn on the ground by his feet. Seungmin’s hands were once again buried deep in the bag Jeongin carried.

“This is _my_ rooftop y’all are hanging out on, get a room? Get another apartment to celebrate new years' in!” 

They proceeded to blow raspberries at each other, before Jisung let his petty side take over another notch. _“come on Minho, kiss me, lots of tongue, Seungmin is looking right now,”_

Minho didn’t have the heart to say no. Not when the childish fire of teasing burned so hot in Jisung’s eyes, not when he excitedly grabbed Minho by the neck to pull him down. 

When they kissed again, another chorus of boos echoed on the rooftop. Jisung laughed into Minho’s mouth, feeding off their friends' disgust so much. Fake or not. 

“Group hug!” Chan shouted, mostly to lighten the mood, but partially to separate Minho and Jisung too. They huddled together, heads bumping together and arms encircling as many people they could reach. “To another good year, okay? Love you guys.” He said, rubbed Felix’s and Hyunjin’s back, because they happened to stand closest to him. 

Everyone lifted their glasses to the sky (well everyone but Jisung, his still laid on the ground where he and Minho had been standing previously), they held their breaths and waited for another set of fireworks, and when they went off, they clinked their glasses. Cheered, to yet another year. 

One after one they left the cold roof, they all claimed it was because they couldn’t stand Minho and Jisung, who still behaved as if they’d die without the other. But it wasn’t really the case, Jisung could see that Jeongin regretted not wearing his jacket, and Hyunjin’s cheeks had turned bright red from the cold. 

One after one they left, until only Minho and Jisung stood there in silence. 

“Thank you,” Minho pulled Jisung a little bit closer. 

“For what?” The other laughed. 

“For keeping your new year's resolution last year.”

“I didn’t have one.” 

Jisung’s mind went blank, he could only recall saying he didn’t believe in resolutions. He could just faintly recall fireworks exploding in the sky (kind of exactly like right now, he noticed) and leaving the roof singing “Fireworks'' by Katy Perry from the top of his lungs. _“Why did I do that?”_ His bottom lip stuck out in a thoughtful pout, his eyebrows scrunched together. 

Another explosion of fireworks and Jisung remembered, like it was yesterday. And at the same time Minho opened his mouth, repeated the sentence verbatim, the only change was the slight difference in tone. 

_“I think...it’s time for you to let us love you more this year,”_

It was hard, Jisung was still not very good at it. Letting people love him, so to say. He still wanted to fake retch when Seungmin said _“I love you”_ in passing, or squirm away when Felix won in a game of Mario Kart and excitedly hugged Jisung. He still blurted out “ _lesbian”_ instead of the big L word whenever Minho whispered sweet nonsense in his ears at night. But, it had gotten _easier._ He could at least insinuate that he loved Minho even if lesbian ended up being the only word he could spew out, he probably wouldn’t have been able to do so a year ago, not in the same way. Sometimes when Jisung won at Mario Kart now he also flew into Felix’s arms, filled with glee and pride. 

Jisung’s mouth hung agape, he looked up at Minho. Beautiful brown eyes staring back at him, smile a little bit sideways. He wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulders, the padding on his jacket engulfing the smaller figure, the warmth of his fingers burning through Jisung’s jacket. He bumped their heads together, not hard enough for it to hurt but just enough to pull Jisung back into reality. 

He thoroughly leaned into Minho and his touch, nuzzled closer. Closed his eyes, to listen to the tranquility of his breathing. 

A boom of fireworks startled the both of them. 

“Thank you too Minho, for just pushing a little bit, in the right direction.” 

“Any day, every day.” 

They kissed. Again. Like they were meant for each other, like two magnets, or two puzzle pieces. Each a sock in a pair or two halves of a whole. Soulmates, not that Jisung believed in such. 

“Hey?” Jisung asked, still against Minho’s lips. 

“Mhmn?” 

“You never told me what your resolution was last year.”

“Oh- eat more greens.” 

Jisung looked at him dumbfounded, he even took a step back. 

“I can’t believe you! You refused to tell me last year what your resolution was and I expected it to be something grand! It was to eat more vegetables?” 

They teased back and forth, Minho laughing in Jisung’s face that the only reason he didn’t tell him was that he knew how annoyed the latter would get (which only made Jisung even more annoyed). Jisung naturally wanted Minho to tell what his resolution this year was, as compensation. 

“I’m not telling you. You’ll find out next year!” Minho stuck out his tongue, and avoided every attempt from Jisung to jump at him to force out an answer. 

The latter chased Minho around a bit on the roof, behind AC units and steel pipes and around the two rusty gardens chairs Jisung and Felix had brought up ages ago. 

_“Tell me!!”_

_“No~ Never!”_

Fireworks exploded just a few blocks away from them, and both Jisung and Minho came to a stop. After gazing at the bright colors in the sky, they turned to each other. Admiring from afar, faces lit up from the light. 

Jisung looked at Minho, the elder's mouth was still hanging agape in a laugh cut short, his eyes were wide, his cheeks bright red, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat - despite it being so cold. Jisung could get used to this, he loved it. 

With a new surge of energy he leaped towards Minho, threw himself at his throat, hanging from his neck alone. Whining in his ear, feigning heartbreak _“Tell me or I’m gonna die~”_

Minho laughed from the bottom of his stomach, his hands supported Jisung’s back to make sure he didn’t fall. Fireworks exploded again. The sky was yellow and red and blue, Minho continued to refuse, giggling between words but kissing the corners of Jisung’s mouth to console him. 

Somewhere, sometime they stopped, with foreheads pressed against each other and arms around their waists. Somewhere, after some time they looked into the other one's eyes, as if that was all they could see. They didn’t hear the fireworks blasting nor the loud music from a block away, only the quiet breathing in between them, only the two heartbeats who synced up after mere seconds in each other’s presence. 

Jisung could get used to this. 

Love. Or whatever. 

**Author's Note:**

> pls if anyone under 18 (or just anyone) reads this,,,, don't drink like Jisung does. it's not healthy (i don't wanna seem like I'm romanticizing it). uhhh long rant ahead? so if you dont wanna bother with reading it its fine!!! in that case, thank you very very much for reading! 
> 
> so :/ i lowkey kinda hated this lolz. DONT GET ME WRONG, I'm very much proud of myself for finishing it and there are aspects of it that I really like! however, i ran into a wall like at 15k words in where i kinda just wanted to melt into a puddle and delete the document? u know? so finishing it up wasn't exactly something i looked forward to. i tend to have this _AMAZING_ idea in my head when i begin aus, and write some half-assed plan how to write it and it never goes like i want it to so :) yeah sometimes that makes me really disappointed in myself :))) there are parts of this i want to change, but kinda dont even know how to. now, this is not the worst thing I've ever written, nd its frankly probably pretty good if i am able to take of these criticism glasses I'm wearing and judging myself based on. (ALSO THIS AINT EVEN ABOUT THE AU BUT WHEN I WAS EDITING FINAL TOUCHES SMTH HAPPENED WITH THE TEXT AND I HAD TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN AND THAT PISSED ME OFF I DEADASS ALMOST DELETED EVERYTHING) 
> 
> anyway lolz hope you enjoyed this nevertheless!!! i'll be back hopefully sooner than later, but in the meantime, thank you for reading, comments and kudos always make me super happy! 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hopeonmydick)


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